Abbatoirs of Judgment
by Renata Swift
Summary: Part 4 is up. Tasha and Dimitri take some time off from their respective duties to examine the possibility of a future together.
1. The Court Has Its Own Secrets

**_A/N: _Well, hello. I've been on hiatus for some time now, but I couldn't let this rot on my hard drive anymore. That, and I was going stir-crazy.**

**This is my first attempt at VA fanfic, and it is intended to be a five-part story chronicling the world of the Ozera family after the deaths of Lucas and Moira. I kept wondering what Tasha and Christian would have felt like, having been betrayed by people they thought they knew and loved. It must be hard to walk through a society that ridicules you for your pain, and through this story I hope to express that pain and hurt. The title of this story refers to how people continually dissect the opinions and viewpoints of others, and try to look for clues or facts that aren't there.**

**Parts/chapters will be short, and all kinds of reviews are appreciated, especially ones that tell me how I can improve.**

* * *

_**Abattoirs of Judgment**_

* * *

**Part 01:**

_**The Press is a Pain in the Ass**_

_**/**_

_**The Court Has Its Own Secrets**_

* * *

**THE DAILY ENQUIRER**

**Ozera Case Still Has Too Many Loose Ends**

_**Motives and Evidence Missing, Say Detectives**_

_September 11th, 20XX_

_Joanne Guilford, Special Correspondent _

Recent comments from certain case files concerning the Ozera case have come to light, with investigators stating that there are still far too many loose ends in the case, and that crucial evidence that was purported to have existed is now under question.

Unnamed sources in the investigative team have gone on record saying that there exists no concrete evidence to prove that the Ozeras willingly became Strigoi. Guardians involved with the case who claimed that this proof existed have now retracted previous comments, with one going so far as to state that he "never wanted anyone to get hurt, it was just what we were ordered to say at the time." Others have refused to talk, citing secrecy and other reasons.

Upon further investigation, this reporter found that official files are missing certain documents - documents that could prove the Ozeras innocent of the crime they are being accused of. The documents that were in the file given to us were heavily censored, with most details unintelligible and blacked out. Evidence bags with labeled tags are unsealed, others empty. Photographs taken at the scene are missing, and witness statements appear as though they have been altered. This reporter finds it highly suspicious that such a high-profile case has been tampered with, almost as though the police arrived at the conclusion that they wanted.

The Royal Court had declined to give any statements in the two months that have passed since the incident. The Ozeras regularly resided at the Court, but neither the Queen nor her press aides have given the official opinion of the government regarding the family. Sources within the Court state the Queen is infuriated by the recent onslaught of negative publicity surrounding the Court in the aftermath of the tragedy.

Lucas, 41, and Moira, 39, part of the large Ozera family, are purported to have killed Mandy Nicholson and Reagan Smith in late June in order to become Strigoi. Both Nicholson and Smith were Moroi who worked at a computer firm in Helena. The Ozeras did not raise any red flags until they disappeared around the same time that the bodies of Nicholson and Smith were found.

An extensive search of the dump site revealed evidence that linked the Ozeras to the double homicide. The Ozera home was raided by guardians in July, when Lucas' sister Natasha raised an alarm. The Ozeras had apparently come to take their only son, Christian, with them. Natasha Ozera is currently in hospital with injuries resulting from the fight. Christian Ozera currently attends St. Vladimir's Academy.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Part 02, _Natasha Spares Some Time For Herself_, will be up within the week.**


	2. Natasha Spares Some Time For Herself

**_A/N:_ Hello again! Here is Part Two of my story, as promised. This part looks at what I think might have run through Tasha Ozera's head as she tried to come to terms with what happened - enough said.**

**As usual, all kinds of reviews will be appreciated. Thanks to _AsheMoon_, who put this on Story Alert, and the lovely and ever-supportive _Wyandotte Bloduedd_, who will sadly be leaving soon. This chapter is for you.**

**

* * *

**

_**Abattoirs of Judgment**_

* * *

**Part 02:**

_**Natasha Spares Some Time For Herself**_

_**/**_

_**The End of Halcyon Days**_

* * *

The coffee in front of me is no longer piping hot. I put the mug to my lips, but the coffee has the consistency of sweet mud, so I put it back down and decide to drink it later. The house is dark, physically because I have neglected to draw the curtains, and metaphorically because an air of unshakable gloom hangs around it. Horrible, horrible events occurred in here, things that cannot be swept under a rug or erased from memory - things that won't vanish, even if its blood has been wiped off the floor.

Sometimes, it feels like the sun just never approaches the horizon. I keep thinking that shadows cross my face - the shadows that lurk behind words, whispers and secrets; shadows that stretch their arms out to grab me as I'm falling and at my weakest. My world has been enveloped in a mist of red. That is why I cannot afford to be weak, why I have resolved never to be weak - it is a privilege that is now denied to me.

Being strong has now become a full-time job. I never feel like smiling or laughing, mostly because there is hardly anything that warrants joking about, but also because it is not my place to do so. It is a façade I am willing to maintain for everyone's sake. To those who have begun to frown at me, I shrug off, and those who avoid my gaze, I stare down. The politics of survival are becoming painfully clear to me.

The past few months have snatched my personality from me. I am now merely the product of circumstance. Recent events have built me, rotten decisions have clothed me, bad judgment has fed me. I am sheltered by heartache, paid with indifference and tucked into bed by my personal demons. The cycle is never ending, as is the pain of living through a filter of lies.

To other people (and somehow, everyone that I knew has turned into 'other people'), I am nothing more than my scar. No one can seem to look past it. It is the elephant in the room, the shield that they hide behind, the ghost of my actions. I am no longer judged on the basis of my own accolades, but on that of someone else's mistakes. My name is now the equivalent of my reputation, and within the walls of this name, I have been taken prisoner. With this scar, I now try to build a wave that I hope will erode those walls in time.

I realize I can no longer afford to hide away. To change the system, the system must first change its opinion of me. And that isn't going to happen if I stay at home and hide behind a veil of darkness. I need to be at the battlefront. All that depends is the number of knocks that I can take before I fall down. I fluctuate between resolution and despair, and yet I seem to have a fair picture of what needs to be done.

The house itself is not very different. I had to change the curtains, because the blood on the old ones would not wash away. The carpet is as musty and dull as ever, as is the sofa set. The dust that envelopes the pictures on the mantle hide the felicity of the past. A stifling heat surrounds the living room, and a bead of sweat trickles down my cheek. I recline in the sofa, and think once more of what I did to kill my family.

I run over the facts once again. They are explicitly clear - my brother and his wife went renegade. But why? What on Earth drove them to the point where they threw away all sense and propriety? What happened to the parents who were so eager to show their son that darkness was just another way to appreciate light? Most importantly, why didn't I see the signs sooner? Why didn't I do something, say something that would have prevented their making such a rash decision?

And Christian. God, what am I going to do? I don't know how to raise a kid, especially not a teenager. He's stopped talking, has taken to walking in circles, and eats practically nothing. I don't know if it's because of what happened or because teenagers are like that (I know _I_ wasn't. I was bad, but not continually silent). I can barely handle myself - how am I supposed to take care of him?To make matters worse, each time I look at him, I see Luke and Moira and what they did to all of us. I know it's not fair of me, but I can't help but be blind to everything else he is.

The press have taken to camping near the house, like beasts waiting for the kill. Each time I step out of the house, they creep closer, with some daring to push their recorders in my face. Each time, they ask the same questions - _How are you dealing with the shock? Do you think you could have done anything to change the course of past events? Can you tell us why the Queen has not made any statements regarding the incident?_ And each time they jump at me, all I do is pull my scarf tighter around my head, push my sunglasses to the top of the bridge of my nose and walk away. I'm afraid that if I open my mouth, I'll say something that I will later regret. I don't have the time for any more regret. I really don't.

* * *

**As usual - please review! The whole point of posting stories here is to get some feedback :P**


	3. Christian Sees A Shrink

_**A/N:**_** I'm back with Part 3! This chapter deals with what Christian might have had to go through upon returning to school. Kids get bullied all the times for silly reasons; but for Christian, it might have been more than a wedgie - it might have been the loss of his friends, the feeling of abandonment and betrayal, and the suppression of his pain that led to him becoming disillusioned and feared by his peers.**

******_AsheMoon:_** **Haha, you flatter me too much. 'Wordy' reviews are usually the best, so thanks for making my week. This chapter is for you.**

**_Wyandotte Bloduedd:_ I used Tasha's full first name to give the reader a sense of detachment. I thought that she might have felt as though she was living in a delusion - distant and impartial to her feelings. She would no longer be Tasha Ozera, rebel, but Natasha Ozera, aunt and grieving sister. AND NOT YOU. I'll see you at the mall tomorrow.**

**

* * *

**

_**Abattoirs of Judgment**_

* * *

**Part 03:**

_**Christian Sees A Shrink**_

_**/**_

_**Prolonged Moments of Silence**_

* * *

**Unofficial Transcript from Recording No. 001456-085, Property of St. Vladimir's Academy, Montana**

**Interview Conducted by Ms Caroline Rees, School Counselor**

**Interviewee: Christian Ozera, 14 years old**

_tape on_

"...and the red light is on." _muttering, then a louder, substantially more cheerful voice_ "Alright then, Christian, you do know why you're here?"

_unintelligible muttering_

"Now, Christian, that's not exactly the kind of language you'd use on school grounds. I understand that this is a difficult period for you, but that is why you are here, why I'm here."

"No, I'm here because I was forced to come."

"You were asked to come because I can help you. That is" _- shuffling sound -_ "if you let me. Let me tell you one thing up front - I am not your enemy. I am not here to tell others what you tell me. I..."

"And what makes you think that I am going to tell you anything?"

"The events that occurred this summer affected all of us, but mostly you. I understand that your aunt is in charge of you right now, so why don't you begin by telling me what your aunt is like and how she acts around you."

_silence_

"It isn't a very hard question, Christian."

"She's fine, I guess."

"Alright. Are you comfortable around her, and do you think she's comfortable around you?"

_heavy sigh _"We've been around each other since I can remember."

"That wasn't my question. Do you have a more...straightforward...answer?"

"You want to know if I trust her, right? You think that all this has given me trust issues. God, this is like a bad movie script."

"Well, yes, that's basically what I want you to tell me."

_silence, then shuffling _"No. I don't trust her. In fact, I don't trust any of you. That includes the faculty here, Ms Rees. I hope you understand what I mean. Of course, seeing as you're a trained psychologist, I don't think you should have much trouble interpreting the 'signs'. So why don't you just give me an inkblot test, and I'll be on my way. I do not intend on wasting my weekends like this."

"You're absolutely correct. However, a Rorschach test is out of the question, and if you simply cooperated, you'd be out of here much faster." _silence_ "Look, Christian, we here at St. Vladimir's only want you to get adjusted again. You've always been an intelligent student" - _shuffling - _"and very consistent. There isn't a single blemish on your record so far, and all the teachers have nothing but compliments for you. No one wants to see you throw this record away; in fact, we want you to throw yourself into it."

"Wait a minute - my parents are dead, my family is no more, I'm being ostracized at school and you want me to _study harder_?"

"That's not what I meant. Look, we're getting ahead of ourselves. Let's talk about your claims of being ostracized."

"They aren't claims, it's the gospel truth."

"Let's leave sarcasm out of this, shall we? Tell me about it. What are the students doing?"

"The point is that they're doing nothing - well, aside from calling me a Strigoi and spraying my name onto walls around campus. One of the students even stole holy water from the church and poured it on me to see if I really was one of them."

"Do you feel worried that this association of you with Strigoi will continue for an extended period of time?"

"Come on, Ms Reed" - _laughter_ - "you know what the school social structure is like. Rosemarie Hathaway was the first on the bandwagon. Her association with Vasilisa Dragomir means that all the royals are now against my existence."

"You say 'the royals' as though you are no longer one of them."

_harsh laughter _"I'm not, am I? I'm just the son of two demented, renegade Moroi. Everyone knows my parents were waiting to turn me. It's an open secret; people just don't say it out loud."

"Have you talked to anyone else about your thoughts?"

"It's not like I have anyone to talk to now, is there?"

"Okay. Now I'd like to know about your approach to this ostracism. What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing, obviously."

"Nothing? Why not? Do you feel like you need some time alone?"

"No, it's just that if I open my mouth to say anything at this point, I'd get into a fight with someone."

"And why is that?"

"Because of who I am."

"But you're the same person that you were two months ago. You're still Christian Ozera, right?"

"That's exactly the point. I'm Christian _Ozera_. Son of Lucas and Moira _Ozera_, the royals that willingly became Strigoi. No one's going to believe me if I say I had no idea what they were up to. It's my name they're scared of, not me. The association is what sticks in their head."

"So you're angry because you think people can't look past your family name?"

"Isn't that what I've been ranting about for so long? Look, no one looks at me and thinks, 'Hey, that's Christian, the guy who loves to play soccer.' They see me and think, 'Oh my God, that's Ozera. Didn't his parents become Strigoi? I heard it was on purpose. Maybe he's going the same way...I'd better steer clear of him. What a weirdo.'"

"What about your aunt? Don't you think she's taking this hard?"

"Why, because she helped kill them?"

"Whatever the reason. Do you feel like you've got to take care of her?"

"Not at all. As you know, she can handle herself in the same manner that I can handle myself. Everyone has hurdles; it's just that some people don't break down."

"What about the recent claims that your parents were forced to turn? How does that affect your view of your situation?"

"It doesn't. That's just something that the Court wants to say because it looks bad if some of their own turned on purpose."

"You seem very sure of that."

"It's exactly the kind of propaganda that the Queen would spread to save her name."

"I see this conversation is getting a little tired. Why don't we pick up next week? I'm sure you have homework to get back to."

"Great. Finally."

"Come back next week at..."

_tape end_

_

* * *

_

**As usual, reviews will be greatly appreciated.**


	4. Two Birds Set Free With One Key

**_A/N:_ Sorry for the long wait (to whoever is actually reading this). My exams have begun, and I haven't had time to either write or upload stuff. But we're almost at the end of AoJ, seeing as there is but one part left. This chapter examines what Tasha and Dimitri might have had to deal with as they considered *that* proposal.**

**

* * *

**

**A_battoirs of Judgment_**

* * *

**Part 04:**

_**Arranging The Future**_

_**/**_

_**Two Birds Set Free With One Key**_

* * *

"Look, you don't have to agree," I explain hurriedly. "It was only a suggestion, an option."

"No, I understand," Dimka says, running his fingers through his hair. "I know what you mean. It's...sensible."

"When have I ever been otherwise?" I joke weakly, trying to relieve the tension in the air.

It is freezing cold in my hotel room, even with the heater on at full blast. You'd think a five-star hotel would regularly repair their central heating system, but no. I must have called the reception at least five times to complain about it, and yet, they haven't sent anyone up yet. Shows how some folks just don't forget things over the (long) passage of time. In any case, I'm used to the frosty receptions. Pun intended, even though it's pathetic.

Dimka looks a bit shell-shocked. I completely understand, seeing as I'm the one who's dropped the bomb on him. I noticeably lack poise and courtesy; I just say things the way I see them, which is what I've done again. It's a proposition I've thought long and hard about, and I really hope he agrees to it. It might be a little awkward at first, but I think it will work out quite well.

And Dimka isn't the kind of guy who disappoints women. He's a perfect gentleman in every sense. I can almost see the gears spinning in his head. He's thinking every possible scenario out in his head, checking if something could go wrong if he accepts. I know it's selfish of me to ask something like this of him, but I'm tired of being selfless. I deserve something. I deserve a good man, which i know Dimka is. And I know we'd be really happy together.

Dimka looks up at me. "I'd have to leave my post at St Vladimir's."

"I'm afraid so, unless they bend the rules horribly out of proportion."

"What comes first?"

"What do you mean?" I'm genuinely puzzled, and I think my expressions betray that, even though I try to keep a straight face. I'm good at yelling at people, not acting (though life at Court does resemble a pantomime of sorts).

Dimka gets up off the sofa and stretches a little. "I mean, am I your guardian first, or your husband?"

Damn, I didn't see that one coming. "Um, I thought we could take things one step at a time."

"As in, I become your guardian first, and then, we get married." Dimka talks about everything as though it were a business proposition, which I suppose it is for him. I don't think he thinks of me as more than a good friend, and definitely not in the way that I think of him. And I want to draw a line - it doesn't matter what kind - before he makes his move, because I know he's planning to make one. I can see the glint in his eyes and the lines around his mouth.

And I've definitely noticed the way he acts around the Hathaway girl. He feels something for her, but he knows it's wrong so he hides it. I know it's terrible that I'm taking advantage of him this way, but if he agrees, things should work out just swimmingly for both of us. Janine would murder Dimka, then scream profanities at his corpse from the rooftops if she found out what the two of them felt for each other. It's not that I think she's a bad person, just a little...rough around the edges.

Like mother, like daughter. It's funny how Rose doesn't see it that way. I think that Rose is just tired of having someone so similar to her around her all the time. That, and the abandonment issues I'm sure she's facing.

I'm also pretty sure that Rose is unsure of what Dimka feels for her. She acts tough, and I'm sure she believes that she's tough, but underneath that veneer is a very insecure girl - one who's choices have been decided and dictated to her by others. Her whole life, just like all the other trainees, has been steered by propaganda that dhampirs have felt is the gospel truth. Even dhampirs like Dimka.

I recall my own days at St Vladimir's with no love lost. I had a huge crush on one of the boys there, a dhampir called Nicholas. I found all sorts of excuses to meet him, study with him, and talk to him. Only over the course of our acquaintance did I realize that he was madly in love with his instructor, a guardian named Lorelai - one of the few female guardians I've met over the years. His crush wore off after a few years, but he started dating some other dhampir girl. Nicholas, I heard, died in a Strigoi siege a few years ago, as have many good dhampir friends of mine. Unfortunately, their stick-in-the-mud Moroi still hang around, drinking like fish and spending too much money.

I'll admit I have more than just my loneliness at stake here. If Dimka does accept my proposal, it will be not just another scandal for the Ozera name, but also a protest against the status quo. I strongly believe that Moroi need to stop acting like prima donnas, get up off their backsides and do some defending themselves. It's unfair to expect others to sacrifice their lives for you if you aren't willing to do the same for them. Most Moroi royals treat their guardians like trash, and the guardians have no other choice but to ignore the snide remarks and insults.

I want to change all that. Heck, I want to _be_ the change. But these are all castles in the sky if Dimka turns me down.

I look at Dimka. He looks a little less shaken. "Tasha, I need to ask you one thing. I hope you'll give me a straight answer."

"Of course. Anything."

"Why now?" He doesn't ask _Why me?_, but I know he wants to.

I chew my bottom lip for some time, and I think hard. What is the politically correct answer to his question? Dimka stares at me as I try and grasp at words in my head.

"Tasha," he leans forward. "I can't just jump in without a reason. You may not need to explain yourself to me, but I have to explain myself to others." Others like Kirova and Tatiana, who wants him for her precious _p__rotégé_, Vasilisa. We'd both be ex-communicated from the vampire community if we went through with our decision.

"I understand how you must feel," he goes on. I interrupt.

"Do you?" My voice becomes a little pitchy. 'Mature' Tasha goes flying out of the window.

"Yes, I do. I've been away from my family for so long that sometimes, it feels like they aren't there at all. To be honest, it's left a hole in my life. My family was all I had. But I built my life again." He takes my hand, and tears start to well up in my eyes. Damn. Things were not supposed to go this way.

"I know my being away from my family is not the same as you losing yours, but you and I both have the same hole. I think you thought you'd be able to fill both in at once, but you can't." He moves closer to me. I can smell the aftershave he uses, along with a hint of a woody scent. Does he even know the effect he has on women? I can't think straight.

He moves away again. "It's up to us to complete ourselves. You chose social reform; I chose teaching. We're not quite there yet, but soon enough, we'll be whole again."

I swallow the lump in my throat. I don't take bullshit, even when it comes from a handsome man. "So what you're saying is...no."

He doesn't beat around the bush either. "I'm afraid so."

"I completely respect that. Thanks for even considering it." Dammit, Dimka. Dammit. I thought I could depend on you.

"Look, I'm sorry, I really am. It's just that - "

"We don't have to explain ourselves to each other, remember?"

Dimka forces a smile. "I remember. Sorry."

"It's no biggie."

Yes. Actually, it is. But I'll live with it. I've lived through much worse. I never was a slave to my society anyway.

* * *

**Please leave a review and make my day :) Con-crit is HIGHLY appreciated.**


End file.
